


ma souris

by flcv



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gunshot Wounds, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flcv/pseuds/flcv
Summary: "You never shoot to kill, do you?"
Relationships: Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Kudos: 41





	ma souris

“You intrigue me, chérie.” 

The purple-skinned woman stepped to the side just in time to dodge a bullet, still wearing the smirk she always sported whenever facing the shorter British woman.

“Oh, do I? Why is that?” 

And she stepped to the side also, dodging one of Amélie’s bullets with the quick, impossibly graceful, movements she always had. It was much easier to follow through a scope, Amélie had figured. 

“You never shoot to kill, do you?”

Tracer chuckled, brushing a stray hair away from her eyes.

“Oh, and you’re better? Your motto is ‘one shot, one kill’, but we’re at around 50 today luv’, and you’ve yet to hit me.”

Widowmaker sighed, firing a shot that barely grazed her, removing only the fabric of her clothes.

“I can shoot you, souris… I just like to play with my prey.” And to also prove her point, Lena fired one that hit only her hair. The French woman looked offended, quickly running her fingers through her hair, checking for damage. 

“I don’t doubt your skill, I doubt your ability to actually bring yourself to do it.” She blinked behind the taller woman, firing one shot just over her shoulder, meaning to startle her. Amélie was quick to turn to her, a frown replacing her smirk.

“Do you doubt me now?” She fired a shot at her leg, not missing this time. Lena was quick to just rewind back in time, a similar frown on her face now.

"Yes. You turned away. You couldn't look me in the eye-" And the shorter woman slumped to the ground, the front of her suit quickly staining red. 

Amélie felt the urge to clutch her own chest, as if she'd been the one to get hit. She could almost feel it. Nevertheless, she pushed through, and tried to keep committed to her mission.

"Ask for a medic, or else you're dead, chérie." Yet her heart was breaking a little more each time she uttered a word. She realized a second too late she wouldn't be able to rewind again so quickly. 

"B-Bitch." Lena coughed, sputtering out blood, smiling grimly. She fiddled with the device on her ear, no doubt asking for help, before she let herself fall fully to the ground, exhaustion starting to take over her body, glancing at her killer. "Aren't you leaving? Or do you actually want to see your j-job finished?"

Amélie didn't meet her eyes, turning on her heel to leave. She used her grapple to get a few buildings of distance in between them, but she didn't head back to Talon just yet. She kept watch through her scope, a tear escaping her eyes as she saw her team arrive. She promptly wiped it away, not dwelling on her sudden surge of emotion. 

It was always Oxton's fault. That girl was making her feel things she was not supposed to feel, and Amélie was beginning to worry about when the next round of torture was coming. She knew they'd noticed, it was impossible for Amélie to need dozens of missions to kill Lena. _Maybe this time I've succeeded._

That thought was so impossibly scary Amélie didn't sleep that night, eyes trained on the ceiling as her eyes cried all the tears accumulated throughout the years, unsure if she should be mourning or hoping for a miraculous recovery. 

She didn't struggle when hours later the same faces from her nightmares clad in white lab coats arrived, dragging her to a room she now only remembered in blurry visions, strapped her to the table. 

The last coherent thoughts she had were that the bag didn't look like saline, and Lena. _Oh, ma souris, I'm sorry._


End file.
